Disclaimers: I don't own LOTR, wish I did but I don't, Tolkein does.
AN: This is an AU fic and my first LOTR Fanfic. Be gentle when reviewing, if there are any errors please point them out to me.
Prologue: To Control Fate
Lightning strikes outside a tall window; rain falls with a passion born to those that hate. Two figures are in the dark desolate room. One is barring the way to the only door, and only exit, for the room is at the top of a tower. The other one is at the opposite end of the room, surrounded by a faint greenish flame. The window is exactly in the middle of them, providing the only light.
"YOU SHALL NEVER ESCAPE YOUR FATE!!!" shouts the dark figure by the door, Irokerg.
"My fate is for me to decide," retorts Grekori from his position in the room. The lightning strikes again and a great storm brewed from hatred and anger rages on.
"And I shall be your back bone to carry it out. Now meet your maker." A deep blood red fire starts to encompass him as Irokerg calls forth his power. While he does that, he notices that Grekori's green flame is growing stronger, also. Irokerg snaps his fingers summoning gruesome soldiers that pour into the room heading towards Grekori in hopes of distracting him so he doesn't evoke a spell.
But they are too late. The green flame that was surrounding him before flares to life, "I was ready for you this time," Just as the lightning strikes, he mumbles an inaudible word and disappears.
The soldiers give an angry shriek as the light blinds them. Once darkness has returned, the flame around Irokerg flickers out as he stares were Grekori once stood. "You may have escaped me this time Grekori, but I will get you the next time we meet and when I do, my army will devour all of Middle-Earth." His voice rises in volume to echo throughout Mordor. As the grotesque creatures of Irokerg's army hear the last part, they start to pound in a bone chilling rhythm of malice.
In a forest, a loud screech pierces through the air as Grekori appears in a flash of green flames. He heaves a great sigh, and his shoulders drupe as if a burden has been laid on them; a great burden at that. "Sorry Irokerg, but you shall not succeed for I have the means to stop you," he whispers in a weary but yet determined voice to the wind. From above and behind him, he hears a hiss.
"MMmm…what a nice little morsel that came to be eaten."
TBC
AN: This is an AU fic and my first LOTR Fanfic. Be gentle when reviewing, if there are any errors please point them out to me.
Prologue: To Control Fate
Lightning strikes outside a tall window; rain falls with a passion born to those that hate. Two figures are in the dark desolate room. One is barring the way to the only door, and only exit, for the room is at the top of a tower. The other one is at the opposite end of the room, surrounded by a faint greenish flame. The window is exactly in the middle of them, providing the only light.
"YOU SHALL NEVER ESCAPE YOUR FATE!!!" shouts the dark figure by the door, Irokerg.
"My fate is for me to decide," retorts Grekori from his position in the room. The lightning strikes again and a great storm brewed from hatred and anger rages on.
"And I shall be your back bone to carry it out. Now meet your maker." A deep blood red fire starts to encompass him as Irokerg calls forth his power. While he does that, he notices that Grekori's green flame is growing stronger, also. Irokerg snaps his fingers summoning gruesome soldiers that pour into the room heading towards Grekori in hopes of distracting him so he doesn't evoke a spell.
But they are too late. The green flame that was surrounding him before flares to life, "I was ready for you this time," Just as the lightning strikes, he mumbles an inaudible word and disappears.
The soldiers give an angry shriek as the light blinds them. Once darkness has returned, the flame around Irokerg flickers out as he stares were Grekori once stood. "You may have escaped me this time Grekori, but I will get you the next time we meet and when I do, my army will devour all of Middle-Earth." His voice rises in volume to echo throughout Mordor. As the grotesque creatures of Irokerg's army hear the last part, they start to pound in a bone chilling rhythm of malice.
In a forest, a loud screech pierces through the air as Grekori appears in a flash of green flames. He heaves a great sigh, and his shoulders drupe as if a burden has been laid on them; a great burden at that. "Sorry Irokerg, but you shall not succeed for I have the means to stop you," he whispers in a weary but yet determined voice to the wind. From above and behind him, he hears a hiss.
"MMmm…what a nice little morsel that came to be eaten."
TBC